


You Aren't Her

by TheSkyrimLife



Category: Mary Poppins (Movies), Mary Poppins Returns (2018)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I KNOW I ONLY WRITE FLUFF OKAY, Nightmares, Trans Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 06:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17177939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSkyrimLife/pseuds/TheSkyrimLife
Summary: Jack has a nightmare. Jane gets him some tea and they talk.





	You Aren't Her

**Author's Note:**

> Beginning note is that I am a trans guy (who is in middle school), so I know how it feels to have dysphoria.

_Jack is riding his bike, happily whistling to himself as he goes to the market for groceries. Everything is green and alive, the sky is blue, and his heart is bursting with joy. Nothing could possibly ruin this day for him, and if it did, he would be right cross with the_ _perpetrator_ _._

_Without warning, his bicycle is stopped in the middle of the road by a large hand. Jack’s gaze follows the limb, up the forearm, to the bicep, to the angry man clothed in pastor’s_ _vestments._

_“Father?” He says. He cannot believe his eyes. His father is back, and as big as a cathedral._

_“You’ll never be as good as Eliza.” His voice echoes through the nothingness of what seems like a cross between a dream and reality._

_The words are like a slap. It’s not like he’s never heard them before, but to hear them again, to hear them after seventeen years is more frightening than ever._

_Jack watches as his gray jacket begins to_ _disappear_ _, being replaced by frilly pink ruffles. His cap is cast upon the ground like dead leaves, vanishing as soon as it touches the pavement. Father is holding out a mirror now, so that Jack can see his hair growing longer and tying itself up in purple ribbons. Bright red lipstick is smeared across his lips perfectly, too perfectly. The precious stubble he’s worked so hard to grow is gone without a trace._

_He screams for help, but nobody pays mind. There’s nobody there. Just him and Father._

_Jack prayed it wouldn’t get any worse, but it did. His chest,_ _it_ _began to resemble...a_ _woman’s_ _. It grew big and he felt the confines of a_ _br_ _-He couldn’t even say it._

_More yelling, more sobbing, but he’s helpless to his suffering. He is powerless to his attacker, to his unconventional torture._ _He tries to run, but his arms and legs feel pinned to the spot. His father begins to yell._   _“_ _Jack! Jack, darling, wake up. You’re alright, sweetheart._ _It’s only a dream.”_

Jack opens his eyes. Jane is holding his limbs to the bed. He stops his struggle and lets out a huge sigh of relief. He isn’t with his father, he can’t hurt him now.

It doesn’t last long, however, until he rolls over and begins to cry. Jane lets go and sits up next to him, rubbing his back.

“He came back, Jane, he was there, there with his vestments and his hands and his words, oh his words,” He sobbed. “I thought I was going to turn back, turn back into Margaret!”

Her eyes widened, but then softened again, with the sympathetic crinkles around the edges that he loved so very much. “Jack, darling, you aren’t her. She’s a thing of the past. She is not you, she will never be you. You are Jack, my dearest Leerie. You are Jack.”

Jack sniffs. “I guess. It’s...it’s so hard, Jane. So very hard. Some days, I wonder if I will ever be able to live up to being Jack.”

Jane seems to think for a second. “Why don’t I get you some tea. That always helped me with nightmares.” She puts her robe on over her nightgown and scurries off to put the kettle on.

He’s left sitting there, in the dim light of an oil lamp, thinking about how he got so lucky to have a partner as good as Jane. Nobody ever liked him, the second they saw the scars, it was done for. They’d leave him straight up without even considering what he’d been through. It was the worst feeling in the world.

But Jane loved him. When she saw his scars, she didn’t even notice. Instead, she told him how handsome he was and how lucky she is to have a man like him.

Speaking of Jane, she walked into the room about five minutes later, the teapot balanced on a tray along with a few chocolate scones. His favorite.

After she was seated, Jack poured himself a cup and began to nervously nibble on one of the scones. Jane watched on concerned. He seemed scared. Scared of everything that couldn’t hurt him anymore. His father, of course, but yesterday, this same scenario had played out with the dream’s antagonist being schoolyard bullies. And the day before that, it was a replay of his twin sister Eliza getting killed in a car crash when he was ten.

Her eyes diverted to his fingers. The cuticles were raw and red, as usual, but seemed worse lately. His fingernails were nibbled down to nubs, sharp and jagged. She gently set down her cup on its saucer and grasped his free hand. “Jack, we’ve talked about this. They’ll get infected.”

“’m sorry,” He mumbled through a mouthful of scone.

Jane sighed. “It’s not your fault, honey, I know you can’t help it. I should buy some salve or something for them-”

“No! He cried. “The salve hurts. I don’t like it.”

Her hand came up to stroke his cheek, his calloused one coming up almost by instinct, overlapping her soft palm. “I’m pretty sure you’re thinking of the alcohol that I put on your cut a few days ago, darling. This is different. It won’t hurt, I promise.”

He leaned into her touch. “Okay. I’ll try.”

The next morning, Jane awoke to the sizzling of bacon being cooked. The only person who could be cooking it would be Jack, but she wouldn’t assume him to be in the mood to make breakfast. She had fallen asleep about a half hour after the episode, and she hadn’t even seen Jack blink through the whole thing. Then again, it could be her kitten, Isaac, who had for some reason developed thumbs. However, that was very unlikely, but as Mary Poppins said,  _Everything_ _is possible. Even the impossible._

Jane put on her robe and walked around the corner. It was, indeed, Jack, with Isaac sitting on his shoulder, the feline’s favorite spot to rest.

She walked over and pecked him on the cheek. “Good morning, Jack. How do you feel?”

He turned to her with the stubbled smile she’d come to love. “Much better, love. That ‘lil talk you gave me last night sure did cheer me up much.” His accent was back. He sounded to formal last night, and that worried her. He wasn’t himself when he talked like someone who’d had years of schooling.

She grabbed his free hand and squeezed. “Well, I’m glad. I was worried about you, Jack.” A tear slid down her cheek. “I didn’t know when I would have you back.”

Jack reached up and brushed it away with his thumb. “Jane, we’s going to be fine. I’m here, I was always here. Just havin’ a tough time is all.”

A week later, Jane is planning a march for her laborers movement in the park. It’s a sunny day, with Georgie, John, and his friend Oscar are outside flying a kite with Jack. A big smile is on his face, he’s at his happiest when he’s playing with the children.

Annabel is trying to draw a picture of them, her tongue stuck out in concentration. Only, she’s not drawing it on paper, she’s using chalk on the concrete.

Jane thinks back to when Mary Poppins took them to see Bert and his sidewalk art. “You know, Annabel, I used to know a man who did the same thing. Drew on the sidewalk.”

Her chalk stops moving and she looks up in wonder. “You did?”

“Certainly. His name was Bert. He was chimney sweep. Jack was his apprentice.”

Annabel’s head tilts. “But Jack’s a lamplighter, and you said this man was chimney sweep. How does that work?”

“He did both. Jack said that he learned how to clean chimneys and light lamps from him.”

She shrugs and resumes her work. Jane simply looks up at the sky and wonders when she’ll see good old Bert again.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I went to the library to write this because my house is crazy and even though I wrote most of this on my laptop, I had to finish the middle of it there because my little ten-year-old brother was acting like a (pardon me) fucking spaz and I couldn't get any peace. I went across the street to the gas station and got a Dr. Pepper, and when my dad came to pick me up, he had gotten me a Dr. Pepper. So I got two Dr. Peppers today.  
> I don't know why I shared this with you guys, I just thought it was kind of a cool story. Anyways, happy holidays and thanks for reading! Comments and kudos appreciated! (but you don't have to)


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